Meant To Be
by Harrysmaster1
Summary: Harry and his Hermione rewrite. Some things were just meant to be. Bilbo was meant to find The Ring, Eragon was meant to find Saphira, and Harry and Hermione were meant to find one another. Fate has destined that they shall be together, and so it shall be. They shall find their other half in one another, and in love they shall become whole. cowrited by Man of Constant Sorrow.


A/N: Damm my beta skills this award goes to Man of Constant Sorrow who has never made me sad and is co-writer of this rewrite of Harry and His Hermione.

Harry knew he was in trouble the moment Uncle Vernon came home. It was always somehow, Harry's fault, when something went wrong at work.

"BOY, GET OUT HERE NOW!"

"Yes Uncle Vernon?" Harry said stepping hesitantly out of his cupboard.

"My best client, I lost my best client because of you!" Uncle Vernon seethed.

"You've been nothing but a burden since the day your Aunt found you abandoned on the door step. I'm done. I've had it. You've ruined our lives with your freakishness long enough"

"I'm Sorr.."

Vernon savagely backhanded the boy sending him tumbling to the floor.

"GET OUT!" Uncle Vernon snarled, and to drive his point home, he threw the boy bodily out of the door and into the night.

"Never darken our doorstep again Boy, or you'll wish you'd never been born"

Any thoughts Harry had of begging for forgiveness were silenced by Uncle Vernon slamming the door and extinguishing the outside light.

The audible click of the lock was the final nail in the coffin, his time living at Number Four Privet Drive, was over.

Harry stood, his entire body trembling. He was cold, he was scared, and he was hurt. He knew that his Uncle's threat was not an idle one, so with a sigh, he took off limping wearily into the darkness.

He walked and walked, keeping out of sight less somebody mistakenly try to return him back to The Durselys. Harry groaned, as his shoes literally came apart leaving him walking barefoot searching for somewhere to sleep, someplace safe to stay the night. The cold wind tore through his threadbare oversized clothes, chilling him to the bone. He needed to find someplace warm and soon, he was so very tired.

Harry was elated, after what seemed like forever, he came upon a small fenced garden attached to a library. Benches and shade trees were spread about for patrons to use with a beautiful fountain at its center. It was still outside but it was quiet and felt safe, somehow he just knew he had reached where he was meant to be.

Harry curled up between the large roots of an old oak tree, the recess he lay in between them blocking a great deal of the wind, he was so cold and sore but despite it, he was soon fast asleep.

Harry Potter had no home, no possessions, no one who cared for him, he was all alone in the world.

That was about to change.

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"Daddy, Can I please go to the library?"

"It's fine with me pumpkin, as long as your mother agrees of course." Her father replied, his tone warm and gentle.

"Oh, thank you!" Hermione said as she hugged her father tightly. She then ran off excitedly to find her mum.

She found her mum washing the last few dishes from breakfast.

"Mum, can I please go to the library? Her mother started to open her mouth but Hermione sensing the impending question beat her to the punch. "Daddy said it was okay."

Her mother smiled amused at her daughter's excitement. "It's fine with me, just don't forget your coat."

"Yay! Thanks Mum." Hermione squealed, happily hugged her mother.

She put on her coat as her mother followed her outside. Her mother took up her usual spot at the end of the driveway as she set off down to the end of the block and across the street to the library, her mother watching over her from afar.

As she walked Hermione sadly mused on how lonely she truly was. She had no friends, all the other kids just didn't like her. They made fun of her big teeth and bushy hair and that she was smart and liked to read. Still on the brighter side, she was healthy, she had wonderful parents who loved her, and as long as she had her books she was never truly alone.

Hermione arrived at the library after carefully crossing the street. She turned and gave her mum, who was barely visible in the distance, a wave to indicate she had arrived safely.

She entered the building and immediately felt warm and content, this was her refuge, her happy place. She browsed through the new arrivals but didn't find anything she liked. She wandered the stacks looking for something to read, new or old. She found a couple of old favorites and one new one that showed promise and made her way up to the checkout desk.

The librarian greeted her by name, and handed over her reserved and interlibrary loan books and accepted her books selections and card with a smile. A bag full of books in hand, Hermione was prepared to head for home. Despite being ready to go home, she didn't feel like returning just yet, she had that nagging feeling that their was something more she had to do, that phantom feeling that she was meant to be there and then. Hermione rather than use the payphone to call home so her mother could oversee her return journey, exited through a side door out to the library's garden, so she could sit quietly and figure out what it was she was supposed to do.

Hermione emerged out into the garden, she had spent many a day sitting out here peacefully reading a book in her favorite spot. She had found her spot during her very first visit to the library. It was a cozy little nook between the roots of a beautiful old oak tree. It had the perfect ratio of shade to sunlight for reading, the ground was covered in wonderfully soft moss, and it never had any bugs, It was as if mother nature herself had created the spot just for her.

Hermione arrived at her tree only to find what appeared to be a pile of old rags littering her spot. She grabbed a nearby stick to pick up the offending rubbish, only to gasp in shock as the pile shifted slightly to reveal a set of dirty bare feet covered in a multitude of cuts and scrapes and worse still, dried blood. Hermione was frozen to the spot, the rags shifted again revealing a shaggy mop of black hair, strewn with twigs and leaves. It was a young boy!

Her first thought, on any other day, would have been to simply run inside and scream for help, to get an adult, or just run home. Today, was different, she knew somehow that she was meant to find him, and help him, that this was why she had irrationally stayed rather than return home.

She knelt beside the boy and as gently as she could tried to rouse him. She used kind words and small touches but all she achieved was to illicit a groan from the boy and for him to uncurl from the ball he was in and roll onto his back, giving Hermione her first full view of him.

The boy was violently shivering, his scarred face deathly pale behind a set of poorly mended glasses, his lips and fingertips blue. His arms and legs were stick thin, his ribs clearly visible through the oversized threadbare shirt he wore. What made her truly upset was the huge ugly bruise that covered most of his face. Closer inspection revealed even more bruises, fingerprint shaped bruises, littering his arms.

"How on earth can I get him home?" She pondered.

"I could try to carry him, I atleast have to try." She argued to herself.

"True, but what if I hurt him?" she worried.

She shook her head frustrated with herself, he needed her help now. She hefted her bookbag over her shoulder and carefully gathered the boy in her arms, and began the journey back home.

It has often been recorded throughout history that even those with the smallest spark of magic, also known as muggles, can use that latent magic in times of great need to save themselves or others.

It is no surprise then that Hermione, a witch, was capable of using her then unknown power, classified as accidental magic by the wizarding government, to strengthen herself to carry Harry such a long distance.

It was a very tired Hermione who stumbled into her house and practically collapsed onto the couch, the boy still cradled in her arms.

"Mom! Dad! Come Quick!"

"Hermione, what are you doing home! You know your never supposed to walk home without supervision. Why didn't you call like we agreed?" Hermione's mum scolded as she entered from the hall.

"What's all the yelling about?" Her father said as he walked in from the den.

When Dan and Emma Granger looked in upon their daughter seated on the couch, they were completely shocked to see a bruised and unconscious boy cradled in their daughter's arms. Emma immediately rushed next door to their friend's house. Andrew was a pediatric doctor who shared the same building as their dental practice, while Dan questioned his little girl.

Why is this..this boy...in your arms?" He managed to stammer.

"I couldn't leave him daddy, he needed my help."

"But why not come get us, or call 999, or ask the librarian for help?"

"I don't know."she replied for the first time in her life.

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Dr. Andrew Gray drew a sharp intake of breath upon seeing the multitude of injuries, new and old, that plagued the young boy's body. He carried the lad to the guest room, stripped him out of the wet rags that passed for the boy's clothing and began his examination and performed whatever triage he could.

Later, much later, he emerged into the living room to give the Grangers, an update on their house guests condition.

Dan offered him a cup of tea which he gladly accepted. Emma sat on the couch, gently stroking her daughter's hair as she fitfully slept at her side. It felt as if no one truly wanted to speak, so with a fortifying gulp of tea Andrew began his report.

"I don't know where to start, he's suffering from hypothermia, dehydration, malnutrition, a fractured ankle, and two broken fingers. He has numerous cuts, scrapes, burns, and some very serious bruising, most notably to his face and backside.

A heavy silence filled room.

"I have him on an IV drip for the dehydration, I've set and cast his ankle,I splinted his broken fingers, I've wrapped his bruised ribs, and placed some cold compresses on the larger bruises to reduce the swelling and speed up the healing process. His core temperature while still low is out of the danger zone. In the next few days it is likely he shall spike a fever, I've written out a couple of prescriptions to deal with that. Stick to small portions of bland, soft foods, his stomach won't be able to handle more than that"

"If his condition worsens, he'll need to be hospitalized, but I have a feeling we've got to him in time."

It was a moment before anyone spoke.

"Andrew, What is your professional opinion on how he came to be in such terrible shape?" Dan asked.

Andrew sighed, while rubbing his eyes tiredly. " I've seen young hardcases come in to my office from the various reform schools to get patched up from a beating or a brawl, I've also seen kids come in with their temporary guardians after being removed from an abusive home. In my opinion, he most certainly falls into the latter category."

Dan cut in. "How can you be so sure? I mean, as much as my heart goes out to the poor boy, I don't want a dangerous person in my home."

Dr. Gray's face turned darkly pensive.

"The hand and fingerprint shaped bruises came from an adult sized hand. He has a cigar burn on his right arm, not many young hooligans smoke cigars, and most telling are the welts and bruises on his backside, which would only come from somebody's twisted idea of corporal punishment."

Both Dan and Emma were understandably horrified.

"I understand if you don't want to involve Child Services, its always sad seeing a child becoming part of the system, but it may become inevitable if his abusers want him back, you'll need the weight of the government to prosecute them."

"We just want to do what's best for the lad." Dan said, while Emma nodded emphaticly.

Dan stood and began to pull out his cheque book, but Andrew waved the idea of a bill away like a bad odor.

"Let me borrow your new set of clubs for the tournament next week and we're even."

Dan smiled and shook hands with his friend.

"In that case, you might want to join me out back to get a feel for those graphite masterpieces"

"Sounds like a plan. Emma, I'll stop by tomorrow to check up on your newest resident."

"Thanks Andrew."

"Oh, and Emma, look down."

Emma, confused, looked down and was shocked to see that Hermione was gone. Mrs Granger went to her daughter's room, but was surprised to find it empty. Puzzled she checked the kitchen, the bathrooms, den, even the garage to no avail. It was in the guest room where she eventually found her daughter. In retrospect it was obvious that it should have been the first place she should of looked given how attached her daughter was to the boy.

Emma peered in and had to smile at the adorable scene she beheld. Her daughter lay on the bed, her head on the sleeping boy's shoulder, embracing him as she slept. Emma gently placed a blanket over the pair, and made for the door. She turned to look at the cute pair once more, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Dan viewing the scene, disapproval and delight battling for dominance on his face.

Emma playfully punched him on the arm.

"Its completely innocent and its undeniably cute, lose the overprotective father stupidity, the last thing an abused child needs is you being unnecessarilly aggressive toward him."

Dan gave a sheepish nod and the pair left the little ones to their rest.  
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A/N: reviews appreciated next chapter will be out probaly soon.


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